


From The Bitter Cold Within

by DeengoBlue



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Author didn't kill the character, Gen, Not Happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:08:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeengoBlue/pseuds/DeengoBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Daniel's ascension, Janet Fraiser struggles to cope with the loss of her friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	From The Bitter Cold Within

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers up to season five's Meridian.

 

 

The snick-hiss of a lighter signaled the end of Janet's resolve as she lit up her first cigarette in over three years, the first, though probably not the last, of the night. Hidden in the deepest recesses of her closet, crammed in the toe of an old jogging shoe, the cigarettes had patiently waited while her resolve had crumbled and life had, once again, revealed its fangs. Dropping the lighter into the loose pocket of her sweater, she leaned forward into the porch rail and felt the sharp bite of the cold wood as it pressed against her. She winced but did not pull back, rather leant further into it. The quiet chatter of birds cut through her otherwise silent neighborhood catching her attention and letting her know she wasn't the only one up at this pre-dawn hour.

"Good fucking morning," she said to her winged witnesses, but they were gathered in the trees at the end of the street and didn't hear her. Janet didn't seem to mind, and she turned her attention back to her cigarette.

"You're a doctor, I thought you were supposed to know better."

Janet ignored the man as he came up to stand beside her, and instead examined the small curls of smoke that wafted up over her head, nearly invisible against the dark night sky.

"What if Cassie sees you," he admonished quietly, apparently not taking the hint.

"Go away, Daniel."

"Janet--."

"Not now."

"Then when?"

She didn't look at him, didn't need to. His brows, she knew, would be creased in exasperated concern, his mouth puckered in a thin line in his version of 'bite thy tongue'.

"Janet...," he tried again.

She waved her cigarette at him. "Don't, Daniel. I don't need this."

Her dead friend was silent for a moment, she imagined him studying the stars overhead, but knew he was more likely studying her. Well, he wouldn't see much. The dark could hide a lot. But not everything. Not everything, she thought, as she lit the next cigarette. Her hands shook.

"I'm still here," he said quietly.

"Bullshit. You're gone. Dead. Ascended. Whatever. Shit." Now her whole body was shaking. She was just cold, she told herself. Just cold.

"You should go inside, get a jacket."

She flicked the ash off her smoke. "I'm wearing a jacket."

"That's not a jacket, that's a sweater. A thin sweater."

Janet wrapped the cardigan tighter around her. It was the sweater he had given her for Christmas the first year Cassie was with her. Daniel had been embarrassed about giving it to her, she remembered. She had given him a coffee mug. God. "Are you here to critique my wardrobe, Dr. Jackson?"

He chuckled. She grimaced. 

"No."

More silence, another cigarette, then, "What do you want, Daniel?"

"I just wanted....  I thought we could talk."

"Hmmm."

"You tried to save me. I know. Jan, you did everything you could."

She didn't respond.

"You did."

Janet nodded, some grotesque version of a smile twisting her face. "I did."

"It was just too much. It wasn't your fault."

"No, it wasn't. It was your fault, Daniel. Your goddamned fault," she said, punctuating each word with an angry wave of her cigarette as she finally turned to look at him. "Yours."

"Jan."

"Don't. Just don't, okay?" Turning back away, she stabbed the butt into the awaiting ashtray with a viciousness that surprised even her. As if linked, her anger died away with the smoke. Tears prickled at the back of her eyes and Janet reached for the pack, lighting up again. "You...you always thought about others. You always put them in front of yourself. But...but what about us? What about you, Daniel? Just once. Damn it, just once. Why you? It’s not fair. It’s not fucking fair. "

He sighed. "I know."

Janet sniffed and used the sleeve of her sweater to swipe at her eyes and nose. "I wish...."

"Me too."

"You have to go." Please don't.

"I know."

"I can't have you around here. It's not fair."

"I know."

"You can't choose when to be around, just popping up whenever you like. It's too...," she wanted to say painful, but instead, "...confusing."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Sam, Jack, Cassie, me--we're all trying to get over this. Over you." Janet laughed. "It's not going to happen."

He didn't say anything this time, so she rushed on.

"Just go, Daniel. Let us get on with our lives."

She could hear the rustle of clothing and his sharp intake of breath. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Yeah, me too." She winced at her bitter tone but didn't turn around. She couldn't turn around.

"Goodbye."

Nodding, Janet took another drag off her cigarette. "Bye," she said through the smoke.

At the end of the block, the birds were singing.

"Daniel." She turned to him but found only darkness beside her. "Daniel," she said again, her words lost in the night.

Janet stayed where she was, finishing off the last cigarette and watched as the clouds came and smothered the stars in a blanket, before gathering the saucer-cum-ashtray and heading inside. She shivered. Damn, but it was cold.

**END.**


End file.
